


Reconnecting

by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles)



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Autumn, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Romance, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 03:43:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_sprinkles/pseuds/Lemon
Summary: Kaidan and Shepard struggle to reconnect after the Reaper War, the chasm between them widening with each day. But Kaidan isn't one to give up-- not when it comes to Shepard.





	Reconnecting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FallingOverSideways](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingOverSideways/gifts).



> Written for Shotce as a thank you for their support and amazing artwork in the mshenko community! She requested an autumn/changing of the leaves theme. I made it as bit sad. But then I made it happy!

 Kaidan had borne witness to the collapse of the great Commander Shepard.

 It was sudden and brutal; like seeing an emperor stripped of his clothes in front of his kingdom. Only Shepard was stripped of everything. His strength, his confidence, his health, and his even his mind. Once strong and powerful—a force both on and off the battlefield—he was a mere shadow of his former self. A wisp. A scrap. A ghost.

 There was nothing graceful about what had happened. When they had found his body in the rubble of the citadel the photographs Kaidan had been shown made him look like a crumpled bird whose wings had been clipped. But the photographs did not relay the reality. After hours of surgery Kaidan was allowed to see the unclothed emperor, and all he saw was white. White sheets, white skin, white tubes, white everything.

 Shepard was swallowed up in his injuries. He _was_ his injuries—all the scarring and trauma wrapping him up and claiming him as their own. It was hard to see past it all to find the man the galaxy had fallen in love with; the man they had trusted with their safety and their hope. It was hard.

 But not impossible.

 Kaidan sat and watched Shepard, and would catch glimpses of the man he’d met so many years ago. He’d see a faint smile out of the corner of his eye, or feel the press of a demanding grip on his forearm as he leaned in for a gentle kiss. When the nurses would come in to give him his next round of antibiotics Shepard would put up a bit of a fight, the stubborn streak alive and well even in the fog of pain medication.

 And he pouted as well as he ever did.

 But when Shepard came home to a house he’d never stepped foot in, to reside in a space that was supposed to be his own, and live with a man whom he’d only shared a few brief but fulfilling moments with, he began to recede once more into himself.

 Kaidan feared that the connection they had formed over the years had been lost. That it had slipped away the moment EDI went offline.

 But Shepard was a fighter, and Kaidan was too.

XX

 “Ottawa’s transportation link is open for business again,” Kaidan said, glancing at Shepard across the table.

 Shepard looked up from his datapad, a brow quirked.

 “Hm?”

 Kaidan passed him his own datapad, a story about Ottawa once again open for tourist business displayed on the brightly lit screen. Shepard’s eyes roamed over the article quickly before he passed it back to Kaidan with a grunt.

 “Have you ever been to our nation’s capital?” Kaidan asked, finishing up the last of his oatmeal.

 Shepard’s breakfast was virtually untouched. His appetite was yet another thing he’d lost.

 “A few times for Remembrance Day ceremonies, but I wouldn’t call that visiting,” Shepard replied.

 Kaidan nodded. Reaching out he slowly pushed the plate of bacon toward Shepard, trying to be as subtle as possible. It worked. Shepard reached out and took one of the slices, but he didn’t take a bite and merely rested it on his plate next to his bowl of oatmeal.

 Turning off his datapad, Shepard reached over and grabbed the armrest of his wheelchair and carefully stood from his spot at the kitchen table. Kaidan watched with some concern as the wheelchair shifted slightly under the uneven weight, but remained in place. Shepard got annoyed when Kaidan ‘hovered’.

 With only minor wincing Shepard managed to get into the wheelchair, and he sent Kaidan a triumphant little smile that filled him with the type of warmth only Shepard could instill.

 “Thanks for breakfast,” Shepard said as he rolled closer to Kaidan.

 They shared a kiss then—slow and easy and perfect. The type of kiss that made Kaidan forget that there were any issues between them; the kind of kiss that made Kaidan feel like they were just two men in love; the kind of kiss that made him remember why they’d fallen for each other in the first place.

 And then they broke apart, and Kaidan saw the wheelchair. He saw the hollowness of Shepard’s cheeks; he saw the bags under his dull blue eyes; he saw the layers of clothes he wore just to keep warm, and he saw the weight of his nightmares digging deep between his shoulders.

 He saw the massive chasm between them.

 “We should go,” Kaidan said suddenly.

 Shepard paused.

 “I mean,” Kaidan continued, “we should go to Ottawa. We should see the changing of the leaves at Algonquin Park.”

 Kaidan could almost see Shepard curl further into himself at the mere thought of leaving the house. Leaving meant no longer being in a situation he knew; no longer knowing all the exits and entrances; no longer being in control.

 Outside meant having to face the reality that he was no longer the man the rest of the galaxy expected him to be.

 But Kaidan had to try. He had to push Shepard so that he could bridge the chasm between them. He had to make these offers because Shepard wouldn’t—no, _couldn’t_ —make them himself.

 “It could be a romantic thing, you know? Just the two of us in a cozy hotel, with no doctor visits or Alliance business getting in the way. We could see the changing of the leaves and we could… I don’t know, just be us? For a little while?”

 Shepard was afraid. Kaidan could see it in his gaze. Try as he might not to show it, Kaidan could _always_ tell.

 But then Shepard reached out and took Kaidan’s hand in his own. His hands were soft now, years’ worth of built up callouses gone. It felt strange in many respects. But his grip was strong, and Kaidan took comfort in it.

 “Yeah… yeah, I think I’d like that,” Shepard said.

 Kaidan kissed him again.

XX

 While the link between Vancouver and Ottawa was only an hour long, it seemed like an eternity for Shepard. Kaidan watched him stare out the window in the seat next to him, all bundled up in Kaidan’s alliance issued hoodie and a toque, skin pale despite the warmth inside the cabin. He twitched whenever someone walked past in the aisle, gripped the armrest whenever the door at the end of the cart opened, and almost tossed a packet of peanuts at a small child who scuttled by. But he maintained his composure, and calmed once Kaidan began massaging his hand and fingers.

 They arrived at their quaint hotel with a plethora of luggage. They had both become accustomed to ‘living lean’ during their respective services in the Alliance, but Shepard’s medical equipment alone took up one small suitcase, not to mention his inability to maintain proper body temperature made it so he liked to dress in layers. This meant they had three suitcases with them, and it was with a great sense of relief that the bellboy took the luggage up to their room while they checked in.

 “I have a reservation for two under the name Alenko,” Kaidan said to the woman at the front desk.

 Shepard remained in his wheelchair next to Kaidan, head downturned and shoulders hunched. He had told Kaidan his fears of being recognized by someone, but Kaidan didn’t think curling in on himself and turning into a beetle was the best solution.

 The check-in was quick, and as they left the woman wished Mr. and Mr. Alenko a pleasant stay.

 Shepard was smiling as they entered the elevator.

 “She didn’t recognize me,” he said.

 Kaidan returned the smile. “Yeah, she thought you were my husband.”

 Shepard was still grinning as they reached their floor.

 The hotel room was small but cozy, and had just enough room for Shepard’s wheelchair. But instead of enjoying the quaint atmosphere inside, Shepard immediately went and checked the windows and the bathroom, scoping the room out. Kaidan understood the desire to make sure the perimeter was ‘safe’, but Shepard’s near obsession with doing so in any room he entered was… concerning.

 A lot of Shepard’s recent behaviour had become concerning.

 But the trip wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about hyper focusing on Shepard’s behaviour and slow recovery, or about wondering if they’d ever regain their easy going intimacy and trust they’d shared so well before. This trip was about relaxing and enjoying each other’s’ company.

 Kaidan just had to remind himself of this whenever he began to fret about Shepard’s increasingly odd behaviour. The ramifications of Shepard’s PTSD were worries for another day.

 The search of the room was brief, and when Shepard rolled out of the bathroom he seemed more relaxed. Not as relaxed as Kaidan would have liked, but enough so that he didn’t look ready to rip all the towels out of the closet to make sure no husk was hiding behind them.

 “So, did we want to unpack, or maybe go and uh, check out the city?” Kaidan asked.

 “I need to stretch my leg out for a bit,” Shepard said. He glanced at the bed that was half covered in pillows, a flash of longing in his eyes.

 Shepard hadn’t willingly suggested a nap—or what appeared to be a request for a nap—in… well, ever.

 “Probably a good idea. We can grab dinner after the rush,” Kaidan said, already throwing many of the pillows down on to the floor next to the bed. Pulling the blanket away, Kaidan helped Shepard into the bed, tucking him in—hoodie and toque still on.

 “Join me?” Shepard asked.

 They still had yet to unpack, and Kaidan wasn’t tired, but Shepard looked so damn cute that Kaidan’s tongue grew fat in his mouth at the thought of saying no.

 “Yeah, sure.”

 He stripped down to his boxers despite the coolness in the room. While Shepard ran cold these days, Kaidan always ran hot. It seemed to please Shepard, who immediately gravitated into Kaidan’s orbit, cold hands pressing against Kaidan’s chest before Shepard nuzzled his way inward, sandwiching his hands between the two. Immediately Kaidan wrapped his arms around Shepard, holding on to his thin frame.

 He hoped the peace would last. He hoped that when he woke it wasn’t because of Shepard’s pained cries or cursed yelling. He hoped that the hauntings that plagued his dreams would give him respite for just a few hours.

 Kaidan hoped that, for just this weekend, they could be what they used to be.

XX

 Dinner was shawarma and falafel at a small restaurant nearby. For the uninitiated, their quick dinner spent sitting next to the window under the harsh lights looked nothing out of the ordinary. But to those who knew—those like Kaidan—it was a massive step for Shepard. He hadn’t been out of the house much since he’d been released from the hospital, and when he did go out it wasn’t anything longer than a few minutes. A shawarma shop with wide windows, two entrances, and a staff that liked to yell was anything but comfortable and familiar.

 But Shepard sat and ate his meal, telling Kaidan about how shawarma was one of the few foods he ate regularly when he was a kid on account of how accessible it was. He talked about how much he loved the garlic sauce and the hummus, and how he’d even tried a shawarma place run by an asari on Ilium. Regrettably, the Asari just didn’t know how to make a proper pita.

 And all the while their knees bumped under the table, and Shepard’s wheelchair faded into the background like it was just a normal chair and nothing more.

 The next day stayed quite the same. Shepard, although guarded and at times quick to startle, seemed to try his hardest to keep a good mood. He ate his complimentary breakfast rather than picked at it, he laughed at Kaidan’s jokes (even when he stumbled over the punchline), and readily agreed to explore the city despite the sudden chill in the air.

 They stopped at a coffee shop where Kaidan treated himself with a fatty latte and a lemon loaf slice, and Shepard indulged Kaidan by pretending to be interested in the intricacies of coffee culture around the world. It wasn’t until they were returning to the hotel, tired but flushed with laughter and good food, selfies in front of the Parliament buildings on their omni-tools and a shopping bag filled with touristy items, that Kaidan realized that Shepard had been present all day.

 Kaidan hadn’t noticed Shepard’s mind wandering, his eyes dulling as the memories of what had happened and who he was now catching up to him. The Reaper War, the losses they’d both sustained because of it, the daily pain and heartache that ripped Shepard open anew every day—they were all gone.

 For just a little while, there was a reprieve; a place where they both caught their breath.

XX

 “Wow.”

 “That about sums it up.”

 “I mean… wow,” Kaidan repeated.

 Shepard chuckled.

 Algonquin Park was stunning. Kaidan had seen photographs of the park during the autumn—seen the bright colours of the leaves as they changed. Vancouver would go through similar changes, but never to the extent that he was seeing now.

 They stood under the canopies of the large maples, their branches sprawling out above them creating a kaleidoscope of colours—reds, greens, yellows and oranges mixing and mingling high above. Leaves that had already fallen coated the pathway, blanketing the forest in a patchwork of colours and muffling the sounds all around them. Tourists from all over flocked to the area, but as far as Shepard and Kaidan were concerned, they were alone in the magic of it all.

 Kaidan pushed Shepard along the main pathway, feet and wheels crunching the fallen leaves with a satisfying crackle and pop. They enjoyed in silence, Shepard’s hand resting on Kaidan’s over his shoulder as they made their way to the best vantage point their situation would allow for. Every now and then Shepard would look off into the pathways that twined away from the paved road, and Kaidan could see a sense of longing mixed with fear in his eyes as he looked beyond where he could not venture.

 But then he’d glance up at Kaidan and that longing—that sense of want and need for adventure—would turn into something else. Something entirely different and yet the same. Something meant only for Kaidan.

 It took them a while to get to the vantage point that looked out across the valley of the park, but it was worth the journey. Kilometers of wilderness sprawled before them like a Monet painting, maples, larches, pines, and spruces giving their best show. It was pure freedom before them—untouched landscapes that were free from human, alien, and Reaper interference.

 It was what they’d worked so hard to protect, solidified and given shape before them. It was life and death as it should be— the leaves changed, trees grew and they fell and created a means for new life in their death. It was a proper cycle created by Mother Nature, maintained because it worked; because there was a beauty and poetry to it.

 Kaidan knelt down beside Shepard, hand on his shoulder as they stared out at the vastness before them.

 It was tangible success right in front of them. Solid and real and comforting in its assuredness.

 “It’s beautiful…” Shepard whispered.

 Kaidan looked at Shepard and took him all in—from the scars and the lines across his face, to the hollowness of his cheeks and the depth beneath his gaze. He looked at a man torn and beaten and broken by war, but unrelenting in his fight to continue on; a man who sacrificed himself so that others may know some sort of peace. Kaidan took him all in, and agreed.

 “Yeah… beautiful.”

XX

 That night they became intimate again. They bridged the gap between one another, reconnecting on a physical and spiritual level. It was quick for both of them, and they fumbled like it was their first time—all awkward laughs and swallowed up moans—but it was perfect in its simplicity. Just to touch Shepard and feel him respond made Kaidan want to cry with relief, all the fear and uncertainty that maybe this wasn’t going to work—that maybe Shepard was too far gone—swept away with a hungry kiss and shaking, trembling hands that held on to Kaidan like he was the only thing in the universe.

 When they were done, both still shaking and their eyes locked in a darkness that Shepard insisted upon, Kaidan _felt_ like he was loved.

 And then Shepard pressed his face against Kaidan’s throat and broke out into a strangled laugh that turned into a sob, and Kaidan shared in those emotions as well.

 They were going to be okay. They _were_ okay.

Everything was _okay_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you want more mshenko content, or just want to connect with me, check out my tumblr at lorastyrell.com


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